Conehead Fatigue
We had our puppy Brownie spayed last Friday. We brought her home with a cute pajama outfit and a plastic “Elizabethan collar” to keep her from licking her tummy stitches out. I had noted that the vet did not volunteer the information about how long recovery would be. And I did not ask because I didn’t want to know. We needed to do it and it was gonna take whatever it took.
So when I picked her up Friday afternoon I was totally prepared for a full weekend of snuggles and quiet puppy time. On pickup, they told me I needed to keep her from from jumping, from running, and from generally being a puppy for A WEEK. Most important: Do not let her lick her stitches! Ok. I got this, I thought.
Day 1: total compliance. Day 2: total compliance. Day 3: total compliance. Day 4: total compliance. The thought, “I am an amazing dog mom. I am completely devoted to her healing this week and that’s what I’m doing first and foremost. I am a selfless puppy mom. Day 5: rain. Thought - “We have been so good, and she seems totally uninterested in those stitches. Maybe I’ll let her out without all that stuff on her, the cone, the onesie. What could happen? I’ll watch her.”
Well, yup, you guessed it. I watched her find freedom and immediately, like lightening, go at her stitches. By the time I got her disengaged a little pop of fresh red showed on her belly.
I had the thought: “I am the worst puppy mom ever! How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I just do what the vet told me to do? I thought it would be okay! She seemed almost healed up! Why????”
I texted the vet a picture, took Brownie to the puppy ER, got her pulled stitch stapled up. The ER folk were very nice. They told me this happens all the time and that Brownie would be fine. They put her back in my car and said, “So just keep her quiet and away from the staples for ten to fourteen more days.”
“What?” I said. I was thinking, “Wait a sec, I just did 5 days of pup patrol, originally it was gonna be 7 days, and now on day five it’s 10 to 14?” That defies my logic completely. In my mind, maybe go back to square one, but worse than square one???
I just said okay and took her home. I’m no vet, clearly. If I’d been completely vigilant and done what the vet said 100% of the time instead of 99.9% of the time, Brownie would be cleared for cone-free frolicking possibly by tomorrow or this weekend for sure. As it is, we’re in stir-crazy conehead land for maybe another two weeks thanks to me second-guessing the expert.
I’m so grateful she’s fine. I’m grateful we have a fabulous vet and access to care for her. And I’m grateful this happened because it’s been a reminder to listen to what I’m hearing from the experts and actually do what they tell me to do, not whatever I want to do based on stories I tell myself.
My latest is fantasizing about the fabulous family gather we’re gonna have once everyone is vaccinated. Well, that sounds awesome except that our family includes kids who can’t be vaccinated, and therefore can still get the virus from vaccinated, a-symptomatic carriers. And there’s more stuff about all the reasons why now is a time to double-down rather than loosen up on our safety practices. But I’m tired. I want to pick out my own produce. I want to coffee live with girlfriends. I want to fly to see family.
And I don’t want to get or give Covid, which will be worse than two extra weeks on puppy patrol. So I’m seeing the signs, I’m getting the hint. I’m grateful the lesson came this way, now. And I’m grateful I get another shot at doing the right thing for Brownie and my family. I’m gonna keep going.
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